Two Of a Kind
by LJ1983
Summary: Post Hellseeker, a year on from Trevor's death. Kirsty is still in possession of the LaMarchands box, and taking heed of what the police detective told her - keeping it as a 'something to remember him by'. But it's not her husband she's thinking of...


_Full Summary__ - Post Hellseeker. A year on from Trevor's death. Kirsty is still in possession of the LaMarchands box and is going over the events of her tragic life so far. But it is only when she begins to go over what truly happened a year previously with the murders and the deal with him that she realises that she is no more different than her pinheaded pursuer. With that realised, will Kirsty ever realise the potential she has in Hell, and with Pinhead...?_

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_~ Part one of three ~_

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**Two of a Kind**

To say Kirsty Cotton had been through a fair share of heartache, pain and despair in her life was no exaggeration. She had seen it all; from abusive, incestuousness uncles, the death of her mother, having to share her father with a very much loathed stepmother, the emotional distance of said father, his untimely and unfair death at the hands of her greedy and vile uncle and stepmother - and being hospitalized in a mental Institute where she would witness further more pain and suffering.

But she would have been in absolute denial if she had deliberately left out her ordeal with so called 'demons' all those years ago; demons from a simple little puzzle box.

A beautiful, yet deadly puzzle box. The Lament Configuration; a pathway to Hell, a way to ultimate pain and pleasure under the administrations of the demons - creatures more accurately known simply as Cenobites.

And yet here Kirsty was, fifteen years following the massacre of her family and the tragedy that became of the Channard Institute, and one year after the death of her husband Trevor - still in ownership of this seeming Pandora's box.

Why Kirsty had kept this seemingly innocent looking box in her possessions for all this time was a complete mystery to her. Maybe it was because she wished to protect further innocent people from being sucked into that dreadful world known as Hell? That was what she had drummed into herself time and time again. Or...perhaps her inquisitiveness, her curiosity, her hidden desires were what led her into keeping the box - she would never really know.

Was she actually attracted and consumed by that whole other world filled with dark wonders, blood, this other life of unknown pleasures? Did she long to escape the banality of this world and flee to this whole other mysterious world she had been trying to escape for so long?

It had been a full year since her husband Trevor's death. It was the first anniversary of the fateful day she shot him in the head and sent the car he was driving hurtling off the bridge and into the water below - nearly killing her in the process, but she survived and lived to tell the tale. A very different one, however. One which claimed Trevor shot himself, including three of his whores he had cheated on her with, and his best friend and co-conspirator into claiming Kirsty's untouched inheritance money by killing her. But Kirsty was clever; she had made a deal and she was the one who'd bloodied her hands to save herself from Hell's grasp.

But the police had believed Kirsty's story of Trevor being the culprit, fortunately for her.

Though, when she first clapped eyes on the puzzle box wrapped in an evidence bag in the investigating police detective's hands, she didn't know what to think - how to feel, especially as the detective - after hearing from Kirsty it had been a wedding anniversary gift from her late husband - had decided to hand her it back, telling her to keep it as a _'something to remember him by'_. She could have said no, she could have walked away - turned around and never gave the box a second glance, but something made her take it from his grasp, an unknown force; her desire perhaps?

She held the box close to her chest back that day she would rather forget, taking heed of what the detective told her about it being a remembrance to Trevor, only it was not him she had been thinking about. Oh no. She would rather forget that creep ever existed.

Her mind was on another.

Even now, as she sat alone in her dark, cold apartment; no real friends, no family, a dull job - a pitiful and boring predictable life, she held the box in her sweaty hands - turning it over. The gold of its exterior glistened from the light above her and almost blinded her. She coud feel the power of it from just one simple touch, the dark energy drawing her in and enticing promise of everlasting pleasure.

_**"...Something to remember him by..."**_

She replayed those words in her head over and over again, the realization of what she truly kept the box for hitting her rather abruptly. She had not kept it for selfless reasons - oh no, quite the contrary. She had kept it as a means to remaining close to him; the one she had been thinking about on a subconscious level when the detective uttered those words.

_**"...Something to remember him by..."**_

Kirsty was still pusillanimous over him, yet for some unexplained reason she found herself yearning for him, and tempted by him. She wished to experience the many wondrous pleasurable things Hell could offer, that he so promised to lavish her with. But why? She was not evil. She was not her Uncle Frank who was surely, in no doubt in her mind, the evillest creature she had ever come across. Hell belonged to his kind, surely, not people such as herself who striven only for goodness, decency and honesty.

But then, she remembered the faces of the Cenobites back many years before, seeing them in their human forms, slain whilst trying to protect her. They did not look evil, especially him. Certainly not him. The minute they exchanged glances across the room back at the Channard Institute following his regression back into a human being, she could see in his eyes, those vivid ice blue eyes of his, that he was once a good man. She could tell instinctively.

So what had made him into the monster, the demon? What had driven him to open the box? She never really knew. Perhaps he was not all that different from herself? Maybe he too had seen his fair share of trauma? His eyes certainly held a certain amount of sadness when she had looked into them. Eyes which had witnessed such evil, such cruelty...needless cruelty. She would not have been surprised.

But also, as well as feeling such sympathy and regret for the handsome looking man he had once been a lifetime ago, Kirsty felt a draw toward the monster he was now - almost an attraction, a desire for him. He was frightful, abominable - grotesque, yet somehow she could not help but find him attractive. She could see the passion burning within those supposed dark and dead eyes - eyes which used to be as blue as the skies.

He had promised her so much, tempted her with the pleasures of his world, yet she also defied him, escaped him. But he kept pursuing her, relentlessly - never ending, unstoppable. Was her life-force truly so captivating? She really didn't think she was, so why did he keep on coming after her? Maybe he had been right all those years ago when he had told her "So eager to play - so reluctant to admit it." Maybe she did want to be with him in his world yet could not resist teasing him with her reluctance to admit her desires? A sane and innocent person does not murder people, no matter how bad they were. She did, so what did that make her?

She realized quite quickly indeed; HE had been right all along.

_**"...Something to remember him by..."**_

She hugged the box close to her chest again, feeling the warmth of it yet knowing of the coldness it held. She wanted to experience it, as much as it scared her and she wanted him to show her. Her fingers, now working to their own accordance, began to run along the designs of the box, caressing it it, solving it. Her desire and passion, as well as past experience, helped her along and it was not long before the Gates of Hell opened for her, seeing him come forth to her.

_**"...Something to remember him by..."**_

His eyes were still surrounded by a mask of pins, and they fell upon her...those gorgeous dark eyes piercing into hers as he gazed to her. The minute she saw him she dropped to her knees, kneeling before him and lowering her head, not daring to look in his direction. She heard him speak her name, his voice still the same, calm yet cold, though filled with longing.

"Kirsty..."

On hearing her name spoken by him, Kirsty shivered but she still does not look up. "I give myself to you," she whispered tenderly. "I am all yours."

The room was filled with silence for what seemed an age, and her head was still drawn to the ground as she sensed him coming closer to her. She knew when he was near when she felt the cold leather cassock he wore brushing her cheek slightly as he circled her.

"You may stand, my sweet child. You needn't bow to me, it is not necessary."

Kirsty nodded slightly and got to her feet, standing opposite him, though still refusing to lift her head and look into his eyes.

"Look at me. Let me see you." he murmured softly, taking his hand and cupping her chin, forcing her to lift her head.

She had no choice now but to look into those fantastic ebony eyes, and the minute contrasting brown and black had locked onto one another's she could not tear hers away.

The pin headed Cenobite smiled to her slightly; his eyes shown no sign of emotion though, but his touch and smile was so gentle and loving, even as his hands grasped at her face harshly all of a sudden. Then without prior warning, Pinhead lowered his face down and placed his cold lips on hers softly. This was a rather unexpected turn, though not an unpleasant one and Kirsty found herself returning the kiss, placing her inquisitive yet trembling arms around his neck.

His pins scratch against the tender flesh on her face as their lips moved in an steady yet passionate rhythm. But she does not care, in fact she welcomed it.

Minutes passed, yet they felt like a whole millennia as the kiss from Hell grew more hungry, passionate and exploratory and so she let out a whimper of disappointment when Pinhead broke the kiss he himself had forced onto her and shrank away slightly. Though his eyes remained transfixed onto hers.

"Do you await the pleasures Hell with renewed enthusiasm, my child?" he asked.

Kirsty nodded slowly, her voice a tender whisper as she replied. "Yes. You were right. I was just in denial...before."

Pinhead once again brought his hands to her cheeks and gripped them hard, hard enough to show he has made his mark on her, but not hard enough to hurt her. There was an element of what she could only describe as love evident in his touch.

"In denial you no longer are, Kirsty." he said approvingly. "You have finally realized that the world here that surrounds you is no longer apart of you, that you have given into your carnal desires and for that I am extremely proud. I knew sometime you would yield to me, Kirsty, all I had to do was wait, and now my patience has paid off." Another sweet yet possessive kiss was placed onto her lips before he pulled off and said; "Come, Kirsty, join me. The Labyrinth awaits you."

Kirsty did not have to think twice when as soon as he backed away from her, he offered her his hand. She at once took it, her fingers entwining with his. She was now at last allowing for him to lead her through Schism, to take her to his world where she would remain forever, to learn about the value of pain and pleasure along with the one man who was so alike her in many ways, yet wasn't.

They were now together forever...two of a kind.

~The End~


End file.
